


You Take My Breath Away

by ForbiddenSnack



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Crack, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Decapitation, Light Angst, M/M, Revendreth (Warcraft), Rimming, Shadowlands, gives deep throating a whole new meaning, head yeeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenSnack/pseuds/ForbiddenSnack
Summary: What started out as a joke about Deadwin yeeting his head at Shaw spiraled out of control. Do not read this.
Relationships: Mathias Shaw/Edwin VanCleef
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	You Take My Breath Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayani_Iriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayani_Iriel/gifts), [wabbajacked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wabbajacked/gifts), [Mice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mice/gifts).



> Shaw fucks a decapitated Edwin's throat. No blood, as if that somehow makes it fine.

The spires of Revendereth loomed overhead, casting ominous shadows across the paved path. Mathias Shaw shivered, and not just from the lack of insulation his thin leather armour provided. He felt as though there were eyes on him, following him wherever he went. Watching, judging, making one message clear: there is no place for the living in the Shadowlands. But Anduin was here, place or no place, held captive in these endless realms. Locating him may prove to be an impossible task, but Shaw couldn’t let _impossibility_ stop him. For his kingdom, his King, he was willing to lay down his life, and more.

Happening upon a secluded alcove, Shaw scanned it for any dangers. Not all shadows were equal, even in these lands, and he preferred to stay where it was darkest. The space appeared to be clear, so Shaw stepped through. Not a moment too soon, because from behind him--

“ _Mattie!_ ”

A word, a voice, he hadn't heard in almost 20 years. There was none of the warmth he associated with the nickname in the voice, only cold anger. Still, it was unmistakable. It was a voice he could never forget, etched into his very being, and the sound of it turned his blood to ice.

Before the sense to turn around hit him, something else did - hard and squarely in the back, not quite toppling him over, but enough to make him stumble and knock the wind out of his lungs. Taking a second to recover, he looked down to see what had hit him, and was met with a mess of raven-black hair. It took him another moment to realize what he was looking at, leaving him no time to sort out his confused emotions before the head was being lifted off the ground. Shaw followed it with his gaze, up the torso of a headless man, who promptly placed the head atop his neck and followed with a crack of his neck joints.

“I trusted you,” the man spat. He was slightly taller, and looked down at Shaw’s eyes through his own rage-filled ones, teeth gritted and fists clenched tight.

“Edwin?” Shaw was still unsure how to process the information rapidly overloading his brain, his breath still trying to catch itself from the heavy strike to his back. It wasn’t as if this was his first stint with a man with a detachable head, what with the horseman who haunted the Scarlet Monastery each year around Hallow’s End. But the figure who stood before Shaw wasn’t just any man. It was Edwin VanCleef himself, kingpin of the Defias Brotherhood. Orchestrating his defeat had been no easy feat. It was his first great accomplishment as leader of SI:7, and on some nights, his biggest regret. He had dreamed about this moment for so long, but now that he was actually faced with it, he found himself unable to do anything but stare, mouth agape.

“Forget about me already, Mattie? Or should I say, _Spymaster?_ ” Edwin sneered.

He wasn’t sure whether the nickname or the title hurt more. Either way, they stabbed deep into an old wound, and the sting brought him enough out of his daze for him to find his voice. He steeled himself. “You know I had no choice,” he told Edwin as much as he told himself.

“You always had a choice,” Edwin growled, stepping dangerously into Shaw’s personal space. He had been closing their distance, somehow escaping Shaw’s notice as he did. The part of him that’s kept him alive through his long career as a spy warned him to turn and run, to slip into the shadows, to do _something_ to get away from the hostile figure still inching towards him. Some other part of him, however, longed for this. It rooted him in place and stood him up straight, willing Edwin closer.

“And you chose betrayal,” Edwin continued, face now a breadth away, his words ghosting Shaw’s lips. They were clearly chosen to be cutting. If Edwin had been trying to provoke a reaction, it was working. Shaw felt his own temper rise like stoked embers in his chest.

“ _You_ betrayed the kingdom. Betrayed the King. Queen Wrynn is dead because of you!” Shaw hissed. A painful memory resurfaced, different in nature than the ones that did when Edwin had called his name. The grief that Varian carried with him to his grave. Anduin, who never got to know his own mother. He had failed them then. And now here he was in the land of shadows, being confronted by his lost passion, his lost love, because he had failed Anduin yet again.

“And _I’m_ dead because of _you!_ ” Edwin bit back. Strong hands pushed at the front of Shaw’s leather chestpiece, unceremoniously shoving him against the wall. Panic flashed through Shaw’s mind. He should’ve ran when he had the chance. Out of the option, he instead reached for his daggers at his hips, finding movement difficult with Edwin pinning him in place. It wasn’t a fight he was sure he could win, if he was being honest with himself. Edwin would’ve made a formidable foe even in life, and there was no saying what abilities he might’ve been granted in death. But he had no choice, not any more than he’d had a choice about anything else in his life. His right hand had just closed around the familiar leather-bound hilt when a press against his lips made him stop in his tracks.

Perhaps not running had been the right decision after all.

Shaw made a breathless noise as sensations overtook him. The wall was cold against his back, a contrast to Edwin’s body, pressed in its entirety against Shaw’s own. He wasn’t sure what he expected souls in the Shadowlands to feel like, but warm and solid was not it. The fingers winding into his hair and tugging with a gentle tension felt very much alive. Edwin’s tongue licked into his mouth, exploring in rhythm with his soft moans, and Shaw kissed back like he’d been starving. It _had_ been almost 20 years since he’s felt another’s touch. The kiss, fuelled by fury and frustration, was rough and biting, and that was just the way Shaw liked it.

As his free hand sought purchase against Edwin, he became aware of the worn leather under the one still wrapped around his dagger. A voice piped up to warn him that this might be a trap, and he tightened his grip on the blade. The thought was chased from his mind, however, by a sure hand crawling between his legs, feeling out his growing bulge through the leather of his breeches. He felt Edwin smile against his lips when he was unable to stop himself from bucking into his hand. Deft fingers worked to unclasp his belt with a practiced motion. Seems like there were some things people never forgot, even in death.

Shaw took a sharp breath as his trousers were yanked down to his thighs and his ass was exposed to the leeching coldness of the wall. It didn’t last long, thankfully, as Edwin pulled him away from the wall, and pulled away from him in turn with a last drag of his bottom lip between his teeth. There they stood, panting for air, taking each other in. While they still seethed, there was something else in Edwin’s eyes now too. A touch of wistful sadness, maybe. Shaw felt like Edwin could see right through him.

“Do you trust me?” Edwin asked, and Shaw found himself caught off guard by both the unexpected question and the softness that had crept into Edwin’s voice. That, and the fingers tracing the underside of his erection, made him lose agency over his thoughts for the second time since he’d found himself here. He heard the words leave his mouth before he was able to to ponder.

“I did.”

For a split second, he thought he saw Edwin’s eyes narrow, but then Edwin’s hands were on his biceps, steering him while feeling out the muscles that made up his lean form before he had a chance to dwell on it. It was a bit hard to walk with his trousers where they were, and he missed the warmth of Edwin’s touch along his length, but allowed himself to be directed regardless. It turned out to only be a few steps before Edwin was descending upon him, drawing him entirely into his mouth with a swift motion that had Shaw biting back a groan, ever aware of the unwanted attention excessive noise could attract. But as fast as it had started, it was over just as quickly. Edwin pulled off Shaw with a lingering suck, leaving him with a shudder and a dripping cock. He then reached up to remove his head, sticking it atop a spike that protruded from the ground behind Shaw.

“Edwin, what are you…” Edwin - or rather, Edwin’s body, sans head, moved to cut Shaw off by pulling him onto his knees. Something warm and soft bumped against his ass. He hadn’t gotten around to contemplating what it was before something else, hot and wet, pressed against his entrance. He would’ve shot up in alarm if it weren’t for Edwin’s arms on his own, keeping him still. The tension in his body, however, was soon replaced by the warmth that spread through him like wildfire from where Edwin lapped at him. He worked in small circles, slowly, unlike the urgency of the kiss they shared earlier. Shaw closed his eyes, drinking in the feeling of Edwin’s tongue that occasionally took a break to lick up the back of his balls. He was so lost in the sensation that he failed to see Edwin’s body moving down to a crouch in front of him. He only noticed when Edwin’s hands once again found his body, one cupping his ass while the other wrapped around his still-wet cock. He let his eyes fall open, still half-lidded with lust, just in time to see Edwin line him up with his windpipe and take him in with one powerful shove.

Shaw’s eyes instantly snapped open the rest of the way, wide with bewilderment, but all thoughts evaporated from his mind when Edwin pulled back to thrust forward again. Edwin’s throat was so impossibly tight around him that it stole his breath, the spit from earlier providing just the right amount of slickness to ease the movement. Red anima swirled where his pelvis met Edwin’s body. He could feel its energy course through him from where they were connected, imparting a strange euphoria as it set every nerve in his body aflame.

Edwin’s hands were on Shaw’s hips now, fingers digging into the bones there to keep him in place while he established a pace. Shaw, in turn, held onto Edwin tightly, lest he fall over from the overwhelming assault from both ends. Each drag of his cock along the ridges of the trachea drew a low whine from him. Edwin’s tongue continued to work at Shaw’s ass, making him shudder each time it pressed itself inside, while his body slammed into Shaw’s with the force of a million unsaid words. The tight heat that relentlessly milked him, the warm wetness teasing at his hole, the anima...it was all too much. It’d been almost 20 years, after all. Shaw threw his head back, unable to stifle the moan that escaped him now.

“Oh, _fuck_ , Edwin…” he said between breathless pants to keep himself from making the same noise again.

Edwin made a sound like he was laughing; it was hard to tell without his face for cues. Shaw couldn’t be bothered to figure it out, but whatever it was sent vibrations straight through his groin, reverberating through his body and tipping him over the edge. Shaw came with a strangled cry, spilling down Edwin’s throat in hot pulses in the most intense orgasm he could ever remember having, made all the more so by the thrilling and unspeakable _wrongness_ of it all. This might come back to bite him later, but that was a problem for future Mathias. For now, he couldn’t bring himself to care through the searing bliss that wracked his entire body.

Edwin stayed in place for a few moments longer before withdrawing, and the loss of the support made Shaw go limp. Edwin stood and moved to replace his head, again with a pop of his joints, before bending down and planting a featherlight kiss to the top of Shaw’s head.

“I love you.”

Shaw thought he’d misheard, his mind still addled and fogged by the pleasure sizzling down in his veins. By the time he’d realized Edwin had said it in present tense and looked up, Edwin was already gone. If not for the trousers still bunched around his thighs and the chill of the air on his now-oversensitive skin, he could’ve sworn it was all just a fevered dream.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end, I'm not sorry. Happy Spooktober!


End file.
